


A Change of Fate

by MerlinWinchestr



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e02 Arthur's Bane, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinWinchestr/pseuds/MerlinWinchestr
Summary: Destiny is never a straight and clear path. Merlin knows that only to well, but now it seems as if destiny has decided to throw all it can at him. As Mordred reveals himself to not be what Merlin expected, will he trust his fellow captive? Or will he continue to give the boy the cold shoulder, even as they trudge along in the snow toward Morgana and their destiny. 5X02 AU





	1. Captive and Captor

**Author's Note:**

> _Originally posted on fanfiction.net in 2013. All of the original author's notes have been removed, but the end notes remain relatively the same. The story itself has not been touched except for minor spelling and grammar corrections._
> 
>  
> 
>  **Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin, Mordred, Arthur. Light Arthur/Gwen  
>  **Rating/Warnings:** T.  
>  **Setting:** 5X02 "Arthur's Bane Part II" 
> 
> **Author's Note:** I was re-watching "Arthur's Bane" parts I and II and one thought crossed my mind at the beginning of Part II when Mordred is giving the bread to Merlin: What if the leader of the slavers caught him giving Merlin food? That thought was followed immediately by wondering what would happen if Mordred had been a slave as well. That was then followed by several days of endless thinking and annoying plot ideas and so, this story was born. All italicized words are taken directly from "Arthur's Bane Part II" unless otherwise stated. I watched the episode and copied the words down, so if any quotes are off, it is entirely my fault.
> 
>  
> 
> _Disclaimer: If I owned Merlin would I be writing an AU to an episode? I don't think so, hence I do not own Merlin._

# A Change of Fate

### 1: Captive and Captor

> "Shouldn't we let the Lady Morgana decide their fate?"  
> -Mordred, "Arthur's Bane Part I"

The cold pressed around him, breaking through the thin covering of his brown jacket. Merlin curled in on himself as much as he could, but the constant pulling of the wagon against the rope binding his hands left him stumbling, struggling to stand much less attempt to get warm. He could hear the other men, his fellow captives, stumbling behind him, their ragged breaths coming in gasps as they tried to get warm and remain walking.

" _Remind me, Merlin,_ " Arthur's voice cut through the air. _"How did we end up like this?"_

Merlin didn't answer. He looked forward, his stare locked onto the back of the young druid boy. Mordred, as if sensing the eyes on him-or perhaps just hearing Arthur's voice-turned. He met Merlin's eyes evenly, slowing slightly in his pace.

" _Oh yes, you were thinking about your stomach, as usual._ " Arthur continued, unaware or just not paying attention to the fact that Merlin's mind was elsewhere. _"I told you it was a trap!_ "

" _And I told you to go back to Camelot."_ Merlin's voice was low.

" _Merlin!"_ Arthur exclaimed, turning to face his manservant.

_"Hold!"_ The voice of the lead slaver cut Arthur off before he could say anything else.

The group came to a halt as the leader, Ragnor, dismounted and studied his horse.

_"We can't let them hand us over to Morgana,"_ Merlin said swiftly, not looking at Arthur. " _We need to get out of here, we need a plan!"_

Arthur started to reply, but a punch to his stomach cut him off, doubling him over as Ragnor stood above them, ice and snow clinging to his beard and hair as his snapped at them in his heavily accented voice.

" _You speak when you're spoken to!"_ He watched Merlin carefully as Arthur slowly straightened. Then he turned and walked briskly past Mordred, ordering, " _Faster!"_

Merlin glared at their captors as the wagon was lurched forward and he very nearly lost his footing. Their was no more talking that day from either captives or captors as they trudged through the snow. Hours passed in cold silence, with Merlin almost constantly glaring at Mordred's back.

They made camp an hour before nightfall, with the only fire being built before the slave traders, a good distance from the slaves. Few of the tired captives remained awake, most choosing to curl up and sleep in hopes that by the morning they would have frozen to death and been freed. Merlin remained awake, knees folded up to his chest. He watched his captors-most specifically Mordred-warily, not trusting any of them with the sleeping Arthur beside him.

Ragnor looked up and noticed Merlin watching them. With a thin smile, he lifted his sword and pointed it in Merlin's direction.

_"What are you gawping at?_ " He asked.

Merlin didn't reply, just simply looked away slowly. The leader lowered his sword and speared a piece of bread that sat by warming by the fire.

" _Is this what you want?"_ he asked, raising his sword. Merlin just barely turned his head to look and the leader laughed, swiftly taking the bread from the sword. " _Catch!"_

He laughed as he tossed the bread toward Merlin, knowing it would land several feet in front of him. Merlin only made one small move toward the bread. He wouldn't let his captor have the pleasure of watching him scuttle and make a fool of himself. The slave traders all laughed at their leader's antics, but Mordred simply looked up with a face that revealed none of what he was thinking.

" _Maybe we should feed them._ " he said, meeting Merlin's eyes once more.

_"What for?"_ Ragnor asked, sword still in hand.

_"They'll be skin and bones._ " Mordred replied.

" _Morgana wants slaves,_ " Ragnor said, poking at the fire and looking at the young man. _"Not hogs for the fire._ "

_"Then slow the pace._ " Mordred requested, facing the leader.

" _The quicker we get there,_ " Ragnor answered, moving the hot sword until it was in front of Mordred. " _The quicker I get my money."_

Mordred didn't react to the sword before him, nor did he reply to the slaver as he lowered his head slightly and turned to meet Merlin's eyes. Merlin kept his face as blank as he could, and Mordred's mask remained in place. Neither could tell what the other was thinking, though both were thinking the same thing: Can he be trusted?

The night passed slowly as one by one their captors drifted off to sleep. Around him, the captives had also fallen asleep until only Merlin remained awake. The cold and his sore limbs begged him to lay down and sleep, but he refused, his mind replaying over and over again what the dragon had said to him all those years ago: You're telling me that little boy is going to kill Arthur? It seems that is up to you... You must let the boy die.*

And so Merlin remained awake, allowing himself to only drift into short naps. It had been years since he had last seen Mordred, but he knew he couldn't trust the boy, especially after the vision he had seen in the cave. Mordred was destined to kill Arthur, and here Arthur was ready for the slaughter.

Morning came none to soon for Merlin. The cold was worse then the night before, and his limbs screamed at him to stretch them, but he stubbornly remained in his position. He watched as those around him slept. Very few were awake, and those who were remained still, as if still asleep, to try and keep their body warmth to themselves.

Only one moved, and Merlin watched as Mordred walked toward him and knelt before him. Merlin watched him wairly, magic ready at his fingertips, but he hoped not to have to reveal himself, not with Arthur so close to the firing line. Mordred reached into his jacket and brought out two pieces of bread. Merlin looked at the boy in confusion.

_"Do you want them?"_ Mordred asked, a hint of laughter in his voice. He knew Merlin would want them.

" _Why are you doing this?_ " Merlin asked, hesitant to take anything from the one supposed to be his enemy.

" _He once saved my life."_ Mordred answered, looking over at the still-sleeping Arthur. _"I owe him a debt. Don't be so quick to judge me."_

Merlin didn't say anything, and the two fell into silence, each studying the other. Both masks held, and both took different things from the other's blank face.

" _You fear me, Emrys, don't you?_ " Mordred broke the silence. Merlin didn't reply, couldn't reply. Mordred's voice fell to a whisper as he continued, " _I know the hatred and suspician with which men treat those with magic. You and I are not so different. I to have learned to hide my gifts._ " He paused and lay the bread on the ground beside Merlin. He met Merlin's eyes once more and this time his mask fell, revealing earnest, honest eyes." _I promise, you're secret is safe with me."_

Merlin started to reply, but the sudden appearance of the slave leader stopped him. Mordred didn't hear the man approach until it was to late. The man grabbed Mordred's arm and yanked him to his feet roughly. Mordred stumbled, eyes wide in surprise. He tried to free his arm, but Ragnor held firm.

"What's this then?" he snarled, shaking the young man roughly. He kicked out at the pieces of bread, kicking them away from Merlin who narrowly managed to dodge the foot. "I told you last night, boy, Morgana wants slaves, not hogs."

Mordred didn't reply as he jerked his arm, managing to free himself from the leader's grip. He took a step back, wary of the leader's anger. He had been with the man for a short time, but even that short time was enough to tell him he was treading on thin ice.

"Well boy?" Ragnor growled, drawing himself up to his full height. "What do you have to say?"

"Do you want them to make it to Morgana?" Mordred asked cautiously. "Or would you want your prized slaves to fall on the side of the road?"

"Morgana wants them dead or alive." Ragnor replied angrily. "Either way, they are money in my purse."

By now the entire camp was awake, all watching silently as the two men glared at each other. They waited to see who would break away first. Though he held for a moment, Mordred finally had to look away from the angry glare of the older man who sneered in triumph.

"Wouldn't the Lady Morgana prefer to kill them herself?" Mordred tried, glancing over at Merlin and Arthur.

"I'm sure the Lady Morgana," the man spat the name out as if it was a curse. What did he care for any war between the lady and her brother? All he was out for was himself. "Would overlook that fact in favor of nine other slaves."

"Nine?" Mordred repeated in confusion, eyes flickering somewhat nervously over the captives. "There's only..."

He broke off as he realized what the leader was saying. He took another step back as the man grinned cruelly. He motioned with his hand and two men were on Mordred before he could get away. Mordred struggled, but the two men were stronger then him and, short of using magic, Mordred knew he was caught.

"I never did like you, boy." Ragnor snarled, stepping up to the still struggling Mordred. "To soft for this trade."

His hand shot out and Mordred doubled over, gasping in pain. The man laughed, and walked away calling out a lazy, "Tie him beside the two he seems so fond of." The rest of his men laughed along with him as the now compliant Mordred was drug to the wagon and tied between Merlin and Arthur.

"Let's move!" Ragnor called out, kicking at the few men who had tried to settle back into a few more minutes sleep.

The slaves were soon forced to their feet and the wagon lurched forward once more.


	2. A Long Cold Walk

### A Long Cold Night

The group moved in silence, the only sound being that of the wagon creaking, the horses, and the muffled steps of the walking men. Their pace had been increased from the day before, a sign of the unfading anger of the leader. The wagon seemed to lurch more then ever, creating a constant battle for Merlin, Mordred, and Arthur to remain standing and walking.

Despite the fact that Mordred was now in the same predicament as them, Merlin kept the boy in the corner of his eye at all times. Despite giving him no reason not to, Merlin didn't trust the boy. How could he knowing what he was destined to do? Mordred, for his part, had quickly caught onto the fact that Merlin didn't like him and refrained from even attempting to say a word.

Arthur, on the other hand, could barely go five minutes without attempting a whisper to them. Several times one of their captors would come back and, sometimes without a word and other times with a simple "Shut up", would punch Arthur in the gut, doubling him over and successfully silencing him for the next five minutes.

It was after one of those five minutes that he successfully got his message across to Merlin and, by default, Mordred. The druid frowned while Merlin simply nodded stiffly, to frozen to muster a reply.

"I don't think..." Mordred started to say, but was stopped by a gloved hand slapping him across the face.

The lead slave trader sneered at him as the boy caught his balance. Mordred forced his face to remain blank, revealing none of the anger he felt. The man frowned, clearly hoping for a reaction from Mordred. When none came, he simply snarled, "No talking!" and moved back to his horse.

It wasn't long after that that Arthur and Merlin carried through with the message. The timing was just right as the wagon gave another lurch and Arthur dropped to the ground as if out of exhaustion. Merlin, already anticipating the drop, quickly called out _"Woah! Stop!_ " He dropped to his knees beside Arthur before looking back up at the men who had, luckily, stopped at his call.

_"He needs water!"_ he called out.

Ragnor had dismounted and walked briskly back to where the slaves were. Mordred, knowing nothing good would come, took a step backward, trying to melt into the other slaves. Ragnor glanced once at Merlin, before looking down at the immobile Arthur.

_"Get up!"_ he ordered.

His foot shot out, kicking Arthur roughly in the side. Arthur grunted and rolled slightly, but remained lying down. Ragnor, contrary to what Merlin and Arthur had thought, did not reach down to rub Arthur's weakness in his face, but kicked out once more. Arthur grunted again, the kick made that much harder by the half-frozen chain mail he wore.

" _Get up!_ " Ragnor hissed, kicking out twice more.

" _Here,"_ Merlin finally said, reaching out and grabbing Ragnor's arm. " _I'll help him."_

Ragnor glared at him, clearly upset that he had been interrupted from beating the fallen man. With one last kick, the man backed up to allow Merlin to bend and help the hurting Arthur to his feet. Arthur hid the pain behind a frown, clearly upset at their plan having failed.

" _Not so much of the great warrior now,_ " the man laughed. " _Are you?_ "

Still laughing, Ragnor stalked back toward his horse and the procession began moving once again.

"I could have told you it wouldn't work." Mordred muttered, keeping a close eye on their captors.

"You could have said," Arthur grumbled. "Most are stupid enough to fall for it."

"He fell for it once a few days ago," Mordred replied. "He's learned since then."

"That would have been helpful to know." Merlin said, frustration seeping into his voice.

"Sorry," Mordred said, glancing at the older man. "I did try, for what it's worth."

"Shut up!" the closest slaver snarled, reaching out and whacking Mordred along the back of the head with his hand.

They fell silent once more and trudged along slowly. They spoke no more that day as a slave trader was constantly near them, ready to strike out with even the smallest noise. The day passed slowly with only one brief stop to rest the horses. The air seemed to grow colder the more they walked, all three having long lost feeling to their feet.

It was an hour before dark when they finally stopped to build a camp for the night.* The slavers paid no attention to their captives, save for checking their bonds and tightening those who had come loose. Ragnor, grim smile on his face, checked Merlin's, Arthur's, and Mordred's bonds, tightening them until the rope was cutting into their skin. The other captives, long broken into the routine, had already sat down, but the three newest captives remained standing. Ragnor, clearly eager to hurt someone, said nothing, but reached out, grabbed Mordred's shoulder and kicked his feet out from under him, sending the boy crashing into the snow.

The man turned, prepared to do the same to Arthur, but Arthur reacted first, bringing his bound hands up and into Ragnor's face. The slaver stumbled, but didn't fall. He snarled angrily as he brought his fist around and hit Arthur as hard as he could in the stomach, doubling the King over. He shoved Arthur, sending the royal to the ground alongside Mordred. Ragnor then turned to Merlin, cocky grin on his face, ready to hurt Merlin as well, but the warlock had already sat down. Frowning, Ragnor turned and left the captives in silence. It wasn't until an hour later that the three felt safe enough and began whispering.

"How far are we from Morgana?" Arthur asked, eyeing their captives warily.

"We should be at her fortress tomorrow evening," Mordred answered equally quiet. "Late night at most."

" _What's Morgana looking for in Ismere?_ " Merlin asked coldly, eyes boring into the boy.

Mordred hesitated just a second before answered, " _The Diamere."_

" _What's that?_ " Merlin asked before Arthur could.

" _In the language of my..._ " Mordred cut off at the sharp glance from Arthur. He swallowed nervously, realizing he had just confessed himself a druid, even if, by some miracle, Arthur had forgotten that fact. Never-the-less, Mordred continued. " _In the language of my people it means the key._ "

" _The key to what?"_ Merlin pressed, once more speaking before Arthur could.

" _The key to all knowledge."_

Arthur and Merlin just stared at Mordred, neither saying a word as one of their captors passed them by, eyeing them eagerly. Once he was gone, Arthur spoke up.

"And what is this key?"

"I don't know." Mordred said with a shrug. "I'm not sure even Morgana knows."

"How can she be looking for something when she doesn't even know what it looks like?" Arthur asked in confusion.

"From what I have heard," Mordred replied, "She has slaves digging beneath her castle. That is what Ragnor is planning on selling the...us, to her for."

"From what you've heard?" Merlin repeated. "You didn't hear anything from Morgana herself?"

"I haven't seen Morgana since I was a child." Mordred answered carefully, nervously eyeing Arthur. "Word passes swiftly among slavers."

"Why are you with these men?" Arthur asked. "Shouldn't you be with the..." he cut off, not wanting to say the word. He continued quickly. "With your people?"

"Their is only so long my people will keep an orphan." Mordred explained quietly, lowering his head and not meeting the other men's eyes. "At eighteen it is expected for you to make your own way in life. No tribe would allow me to remain so I traveled the kingdoms."

"Why become a slave trader?" Merlin asked, distrust evident as he looked at the younger man.

"They captured me a month back," Mordred replied, looking up at the warlock. "It was only because I knew Morgana that they agreed to release me, but only if I stayed with them and helped them get the best price for their slaves."

The three lapsed into silence once more, not sure what to say from there. Arthur glanced at Mordred sadly, while Merlin just frowned. He knew the boy was Arthur's doom, but their was just something about the boy that was just so likeable. Merlin took a breath, determined not to let himself trust Mordred. He couldn't trust Mordred, for Arthur's sake.

"How old are you, Mordred?" Arthur asked, breaking into Merlin's thoughts.

"Nineteen."** Mordred answered in surprise, not quite sure why he was being asked.

"Why go to Ismere?" Arthur continued, keeping quiet. "Why not Camelot?"

"Druids aren't allowed in Camelot." Mordred replied in confusion.

"Arthur allowed Druids into Camelot four years ago," Merlin spoke up, surprised that Mordred didn't know already. "As long as they are peaceful and don't use magic they tolerated."

"Really?" Mordred asked in surprise.

"Did you not know?" Arthur asked.

"No." Mordred answered with a shake of his head. "I wish I had. Maybe we wouldn't be in this mess if I had."

"You wouldn't be." Arthur clarified. "We still woud because Merlin here only thinks with his stomach!"

"Hey!" Merlin exclaimed, a bit to loud.

"Quiet!" Ragnor snapped from his place by the fire.

The three fell silent as the guard moved closer to them. The sun had begun to fall and the other captives had already lain down, sitting as close as they could to share body warmth. Arthur and Mordred lay down as well, but Merlin remained sitting up once more. He curled his legs up to his chest and eyed Mordred warily. He wanted nothing more then to lay down and sleep, but he couldn't with Arthur's killer lying beside him.

With a sigh, Merlin settled into another long, cold night.


	3. Midnight Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Italicized sentences in this chapter are not taken from the episode, but rather indicate when characters are speaking silently through their minds.

### Midnight Talk

Merlin shivered in the cold. The fire had long since died down and the slavers had all gone to sleep save the one guard. Merlin himself was having a hard time keeping awake. He had dozed fitfully, but had been jerked awake by dreams of Arthur's death and Mordred smirking over his dead body.

He watched Mordred carefully, trying to put the boy's youth out of his mind. Nineteen, the same age he had been when he first came to Camelot. A small smile appeared as Merlin looked over at Arthur, remembering how young they had been and how simple things had once been.

His eyes drifted over to Mordred once more and he sighed, his eyes looking far older then his years. How could this boy who looked so young, so peaceful, so innocent be Arthur's doom? But he knew it to be true; Kilgharrah and the dying prophet had made that fact crystal clear. The boy could not be trusted.

_Then why does he no do so now?_ The thought came unbidden and Merlin frowned. Why hadn't Mordred already killed Arthur? The man, Ragnor, had been prepared to kill both Arthur and himself, but Mordred had stepped in and prevented their deaths. If the boy was destined to kill Arthur, then why not go ahead while Arthur was tied and at his mercy? And why risk giving them bread? Could it just be an elaborate plot hatched by Mordred and Morgana? But Mordred claimed not to have seen Morgana since he was a child. Could he by lying?

Merlin sighed and ran his bound hands through his hair, willing himself to cease thinking of questions that had no answers. Sudden movement from beside him drew Merlin's tired eyes and he watched as Mordred rolled over, blinked his eyes open, and struggled to sit up. Merlin forced his face into a blank mask and looked away.

"They're not going to harm him," Mordred said after a few moments, voice heavy with sleep. "Not when we are this close to Morgana."

Merlin didn't reply. He shuffled slightly, stretching his stiff limbs as much as possible without truly moving. Mordred remained sitting, watching Merlin curiously. When he spoke again it was not out loud, but with his mind.

" _I had always hoped we might meet again, Emrys._ "

" _Why is that?"_ Merlin asked, also with his mind.

" _The last time we met,_ " Mordred replied slowly, contemplating his words carefully. " _You tried to have me killed._ "

Merlin stiffened, eyes turning to the boy who simply stared back, his face a blank mask.

" _I haven't forgotten, Emrys._ " Mordred continued when Merlin remained silent. " _But I spoke in haste. I do not blame you for what you did. I was young and what I was doing was wrong. I have wanted to meet you again so I could apologize. I was a fool to try and steal the crystal. I realize that now. I do not blame you for trying to have me captured by the guards._ "

Merlin couldn't keep the shock off his face as Mordred grew quiet. Of all the things he had expected to hear, that hadn't been one of them. Threats against himself and Arthur, hatred, anything except an apology for something that had happened years ago. They fell into an awkward silence, neither knowing quite what to say. Minutes ticked by as they sat in silence until finally Mordred began moving to lay back down on one side of Arthur.

"You will be of no use to Arthur," he mumbled aloud, "if you are passing out of exhaustion."

Merlin stared, once more shocked at the boy's apparent concern for both himself and Arthur. As much as he wished to deny it, he couldn't argue against the boy's words. He wouldn't be any use to Arthur's protection if he was passing out.

And so, despite every fiber of his being screaming against it, Merlin stretched out beside his king and the curious druid boy. But, as his eyes closed, they flashed gold and a spell settled over Mordred to warn Merlin if the boy so much as moved toward Arthur. Only then did he allow his exhaustion to send him into a restless sleep.


	4. Morgana's Fortress

### Morgana's Fortress

A kick to the ribs woke Merlin from his restless sleep. He shot up, groggy and confused. Ragnor stood above him, grinning cruelly. He kicked out once more, catching Merlin just below the ribs.

"Get up!" he ordered, kicking out once more.

Merlin glared as he got to his feet, resting his bound hands against his sore ribs. Most of the other captives had already gotten to their feet, but some remained asleep. Ragnor moved on, kicking the others awake. Merlin watched him go before turning to Arthur and Mordred.

Arthur was clearly sore, tired, and cold and though Arthur wore the mask that few could see through, Merlin could see the anger flashing in his eyes. Merlin knew he probably looked just as bad, if not worse, than Arthur. The fitful hours of sleep he had gotten had helped, but he was still tired. He looked over at Mordred who gave him a small half-smile. Merlin started to look away, but he knew he owed the boy for the sleep he had gotten. He nodded once and Mordred's smile grew slightly before falling.

The day passed slowly, with the procession slowly gaining ground. They stopped only once to rest the horses, and that only lasted a few minutes. The sun was just setting when Morgana's fortress came into view. Merlin and Arthur exchanged a look, both hiding the uncertainty they felt.

They were met by guards, with Ragnor loudly demanding an audience with the Lady Morgana. One guard waved lazily and another ran off into the dark castle. The captives were untied from the wagon and each slaver held three captives, the ropes acting as a horses' reign. Arthur and Merlin were kept separate from the others. Several guards moved to take the slaves, but Ragnor stopped them saying, "The Lady Morgana will want to see them personally." The guards shrugged indifferently and moved away to lazily man their posts.

It was a few minutes later when Morgana came down, rushing quickly as if she already knew what was waiting for her. Ragnor moved toward her, grinning slyly, and bowed dramatically. But Morgana's eyes were not on him. She brushed right by before he could say anything. Arthur and Merlin stiffened, Merlin shuffling slightly, prepared to use his magic if necessary. Morgana came to a stop in front of Arthur, a triumphant smirk on her lips.

"If it isn't my dear brother," she said slowly, smirking. "It's been far too long."

"Morgana." Arthur said simply, a mix of sadness and pain flashing across his eyes.

Ragnor had moved forward to stand just behind Morgana and, as if sensing him, she turned. She said nothing, simply studying him and waiting for him to speak. He grinned, a grin like that of a predator closing in on its prey. She sneered at him, clearly not impressed, and turned to study the other captives. None looked up to meet her eyes as she scanned them quickly. It was then that her eyes fell onto Mordred.

Her eyes widened in shock and she moved forward, much to the confusion of all save Merlin. His eyes narrowed as he watched Morgana walk up to the boy, lips moving in surprise. She laid her hand on his shoulder, giving him a genuine smile—the first she had given since her sister's death—and whispered, _"Mordred._ " He gave her a small smile, before letting it fall. It was only then that she seemed to realize his hands were bound. The smile faded and she moved her hand back. Anger flashed in her eyes, much to his surprise, and she spun on her heels.

Ragnor's eyes widened as her eyes landed on him. He took a step backward as she moved toward him. Her eyes flashed gold and he could only gasp as he went flying backwards, crashing into the stone wall of the castle. He fell to the ground, out of breath and bruised, but somehow still in one piece. He looked up and saw Morgana still standing where she had been.

"Take them to the caverns." She ordered coldly. "Whip him first."

The guards wasted no time in doing as they were told, two rushing for Ragnor and gripping him tightly. He struggled, shouting and demanding to be released. The two guards held tight and he turned his anger at Morgana.

"You will pay for this, witch!" he snarled. "No one crosses Ragnor!"

Morgana's eyes glowed gold and Ragnor suddenly fell limp, his neck broken. The two guards dropped him and backed away from the body.

"You're wrong," she said quietly, dangerously. "No one crosses me."

She turned back to watch as the slaves were led into the castle. Three men grabbed at Arthur, Merlin, and Mordred, but Morgana stopped them. She walked over to stand before the three once more, cocky smirk once more on her face.

"As much as I would love to catch up, brother." She said coldly, "It has been far too long since I last saw Mordred. Don't worry, I won't forget about you or your servant."

She spat the word servant as if it was a curse word, her eyes glaring daggers at Merlin who held her gaze with a blank look of his own. She nodded and guards quickly grabbed Arthur and Merlin, leading them away after the other slaves. Morgana turned to Mordred then, the smile back on her face once more, all signs of her previous anger gone. She untied his hands with a flash of gold and motioned with her hand.

"Come, we have much to discuss."


	5. Conversations

### Conversations

Morgana barked a few commands to her men and the eight broken slaves were led away with no trouble. The men hesitated when they reached Merlin and Arthur, however, and looked to Morgana who was still smiling at Mordred, talking quietly. She didn't notice the men's nervous glances or, if she did, she ignored them in favor of her long lost friend.

"M…my lady?" A brave—or perhaps stupid—man finally spoke up, walking over to the witch nervously. "Wha' abou' these two?"

Morgana, smile fading to an annoyed frown, looked over at her brother and the manservant. She waited a few moments before replying, contemplating her answer. When she answered, she shrugged, as if no longer caring for the men she had been trying to kill for years.

"Take them to the caverns," she ordered. "And shackle them. We wouldn't want them escaping now would we?"

She laughed as the men roughly grabbed Arthur's and Merlin's arms and began leading them away, paying no mind to how tight they grabbed or if the two captives stumbled. Morgana's laugh followed them out with a cry of, "I shall see you later, dear brother."

They were led through several passageways, each leading lower and lower. Both men attempted to memorize the way, but Merlin soon grew confused and their captors ensured Arthur would be confused by periodically blinding folding him, spinning him several times, and then removing the blindfold and continuing on their way. Merlin tried to remember each turn they took and how many levels they were descending, but he lost track more often than not. He barely managed to keep a smug grin off his face, however, because he knew he could easily find the way back with his magic. It was more trustworthy then memorization anyways.

When they reached what appeared to be the entrance to the caverns—a large open hole in the floor with steps leading down—the last of the captives who had arrived with them were just beginning to enter the caverns. Arthur and Merlin were pushed forward and the guards quickly got to work. Their hands were unbound, but the number of men around them with weapons at the ready prevented either from attempting an escape. They were forced to strip off their shirts and then the rope that had bound them was replaced with shackles.

They were led down the stairs, Arthur first and then Merlin, and were soon deep within the caverns. Neither man had a guess at how many men were being held captive, but it was well over a hundred at the least. They glanced at each other quickly, each mirroring the other's thoughts: How do we find Gwaine and Percival?

"The carts need to be loaded with rocks and taken to the dumping place." A guard announced gruffly. "Get to it."

Arthur and Merlin glared one last time, but each knew this wasn't a battle they could win. Not yet, at least. Reluctantly, they did as they were told. The carts were heavier than they looked and the shackles chaining their wrists made it more difficult than it already was. They moved slowly, neither wanting to appear as if they had given in. As they moved, their eyes kept flickering across the caverns, looking for any sign of Gwaine or Percival.

"What do we do when we find them?" Merlin grunted, as he picked up a rock and dropped it into the cart.

"We'll figure that out," Arthur replied. "When we find them."

The two quickly lost track of time as they filled cart after cart with rocks. They kept wandering around, searching for their friends as best they could. Several times the Saxons guarding the slaves would come up to them and hit them across their backs with whips, urging them to move faster. The first time it happened, Arthur struck back, earning him an extra whipping and a punch to the face. It was after that that Merlin did his best to hold his King back each time a guard came around.

Merlin had lowered his heads as a guard passed by when he bumped into. Merlin stumbled backwards, just barely keeping his balance. He looked up, about to apologize, when a smile of recognition spread across his face.

"Percival!" he exclaimed at the same time as Arthur.

_"Arthur!_ Merlin!" Percival sounded surprised.

_"Didn't think we'd just leave you here, did you?"_ Arthur asked with a small smile.

Percival just grinned back, before letting it fade as he noticed the shackles.

"I take it things didn't go according to plan?" he attempted to joke.

"When do they ever?" Merlin scoffed.

" _Where are the others?_ " Arthur asked before either man could say anything else.

" _Their…um…scattered around._ " Percival said, turning to look around, as if the men of Camelot would suddenly appear out of nowhere.

" _And Gwaine?_ " Arthur added, not liking the fact that his men were spread out.

" _I saw him a couple of days ago._ " Percival answered with a shake of his head.

"We need to find him and gather our men together." Arthur announced and Percival nodded in agreement. "See what you can do. Try and stay together. If you see a chance to steal a sword or overcome a Saxon, take it."

"Yes, Sire." Percival said in understanding. "What are you going to do?"

"Find Gwaine." Arthur answered quickly.

Merlin tapped him on the shoulder, their signal for a guard, and the three quickly hurried back to doing what they were supposed to be doing. Percival went off in the other direction as they did and the two men took one last glance back at the big man, but Percival kept his back turned to them.

"Gwaine would have tried to escape." Merlin whispered as he and Arthur bent to pick up a large rock. "He could be in any of these abandoned passages."

"He wouldn't have left without the men." Arthur disagreed.

"Maybe he was just looking for a way out then." Merlin gave. "I think we should check all of the passages we can."

"I never knew you had it in you, Merlin." Arthur joked. "That's a good idea. Come on."

With a glance around to make sure no Saxons were looking, Arthur and Merlin slipped into the dark passage of an abandoned cavern.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Morgana led Mordred through the castle in the opposite direction of Arthur and Merlin. They were silent as they walked, with Mordred watching the woman who had saved him as a child curiously. She wasn't as he remembered. He remembered a kind, beautiful woman, who was strong and not afraid to say what she thought. Now he found a woman, still beautiful, but with harsh…well, he wasn't quite sure what it was…brutality, maybe? She was stronger than he remembered, and she defiantly still wasn't afraid to say what she thought. But she wasn't the Morgana he knew and remembered, and Mordred couldn't fight back the uneasiness that formed in his stomach.

"Come," Morgana said with a smile, motioning toward an open door. "I'm sure you must be starving."

Mordred gave her a small smile in return and walked into the room. It held a large rectangular table and two chairs. On the table lay more food than Mordred had seen in a long time. Morgana moved toward one of the seats and sat down gracefully, beckoning him to do the same. Mordred did as he was told and almost instantly two servants where there, piling food onto their plates.

Mordred needed no further invitation and began eating almost before the servant had finished placing the food on the plate. He hadn't realized until that moment how hungry he truly was. Morgana motioned for the servants to leave them and studied the boy before her carefully, her own plate of food lying untouched. They were silent for some time, the only sounds being that of Mordred eating.

_"I feared you were dead._ " Morgana began. Mordred didn't look up to meet her eyes, but ate slower. " _It's dangerous for those of us with magic."_

" _It's not been easy._ " Mordred replied, looking up, plate now finished. He gave her a small smile, which she returned as she reached for an apple.

"For any of us."

" _Sorcery frightens people,_ " Mordred said slowly. Sadly, he added, " _Even some of those who claim to support it._ "

" _You see a lot_." Morgana replied approvingly.

" _I've learned to._ " Mordred replied, hints of sorrow seeping into his voice. " _I've had to, if I was not to be burned at the stake or exploited for another man's game._ "

_"Attitudes should change soon._ " Morgana replied confidently, smiling at him. " _The Old Religion will reign once more."_ Mordred smiled at that, wanting nothing more, and leaned back in his chair as Morgana continued, " _There will be nothing to fear once Arthur and his kind are cleansed from the earth."_

The smile fell from Mordred's face as he thought of Arthur and Merlin. He knew Merlin didn't trust him, but he could understand that. He had done nothing to earn the warlock's trust and after the things he did as a child, he didn't expect Emrys to trust him. As for Arthur, all he could think when he imagined the king was of the kindness the man had shown to him, both as a child and now.

"Cleansed from the earth?" he repeated uncertainly.

"Of course." Morgana replied with a slight laugh. "It is only once Arthur is finally eradicated that I can take my rightful place as Queen of Camelot. And then we will be free, Mordred! Free to do as we wish!"

Mordred couldn't keep the frown off his face as he thought of those words. It seemed more had changed then he had first realized.

"Is Arthur truly so much like his father?" He just couldn't picture Arthur as the ruthless man his father had been.

"He's worse!" Morgana snapped back angrily. Mordred jumped slightly, surprised by the sudden sharpness. She noticed and lowered her tone slightly, taking the edge out of it. "I know my brother, Mordred, and I assure you, he is his father's son."

"What if he isn't?" Mordred asked boldly, meeting her eyes.

"He is." Morgana's voice was confident.

"I have seen nothing but kindness in him," Mordred argued. "He knew I was a druid and yet he still saved me as a child, and when Ragnor held me as a slave as well he showed me nothing but kindness."

"It is an act!" Morgana screeched, jumping from her chair and banging her hand on the table. "He is nothing but a hypocrite! He says one thing and does the other!"

_"Morgana, calm yourself._ " Mordred said, more shaken by Morgana's outburst then he would like to admit.

_"I want to put his head on a spike and I want to watch as the crows feast on his eyes!"_ She said slowly, coldly.

Mordred could say nothing, could only stare at the woman in shock. He had risen to his feet, though he wasn't sure why. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Morgana watched him carefully and for the first time he saw what others had seen for the past few years: the dark, the craziness, the hate that had filled her. And he wanted nothing to do with it.

"I am sorry, Morgana." He said slowly, thinking his words over carefully.

"For what?" Morgana asked lowly, dangerously.

"Arthur has shown me nothing but kindness," Mordred answered, "I will not repay his kindness with harm."

"Think of what you are saying carefully, Mordred." Morgana cautioned, eyes narrowed, the spark of goodness he had seen earlier completely gone. "It may be the last thing you do."

"I know what I am saying." Mordred replied, raising his head in attempt to appear braver then he felt. "I will not help you harm him."

"Then you are no friend of mine." Morgana sneered. "Guards!"

Mordred didn't even have time to push his chair away before two guards were inside the room and grabbing his arms. He struggled, but it did no good, they overpowered him easily. Morgana practically glided over to where they held him, eyes narrowed and face blank of all feeling except anger and hatred.

"I had hoped to have you by my side, Mordred." Morgana said coldly, walking in front of him. "Together we could be unstoppable."

"Arthur is a good man, Morgana," Mordred tried.

"No!" Morgana screamed, and a glass goblet shattered as her eyes grew gold in anger. "You will soon see how wrong you are. Take him to The Room."

Mordred could only stumble along as his captors pulled him out of the room and away from Morgana.


	6. The Room

### The Room

The two guards holding Mordred dragged him none to gently out of the room and down the hall. They held him tightly, their grip only tightening more when he struggled. Mordred gave up struggling quickly when he realized it was doing him no good. He held no illusions; he knew he was in deep trouble. He shouldn't have pushed Morgana, but how was he to have known how much she had changed? He had heard rumors, of course, but rumors are often exaggerated. After meeting Morgana he knew that it was true. Rumors are often exaggerated and in the case of Morgana, they didn't even begin to cover the craziness.

Mordred stumbled, just barely managing to keep his feet as the guards continued dragging him. At first he tried to remember where they were taking him, but the turns soon became too many and he gave up on remembering. If he managed to escape he would just have to wander around randomly and hope he could get out before Morgana found him. Maybe if he were to use his magic to knock the guards out…

They came to a sudden stop, breaking Mordred out of his thoughts of escape. One of the guards released one hand to open a door, but before Mordred could make use of the opportunity he was roughly thrown inside the room, crashing into the half-open door as he fell. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him, and the door was slammed behind him. Mordred rolled onto his back, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting.

The room was small, that much he could tell from the little light coming through the window high up on the wall. Save for random chains hanging from the ceiling and piled on the floor, the room was empty. His eyes now fully adjusted, he got to his feet and carefully made his way to the door. He felt around, trying to find a way to open it, but there was none. He pushed against the door, first lightly, then harder. It budged slightly, but the guards had locked it good and tight. He shoved his shoulder against it, but succeeded only in bruising his shoulder.

With a sigh, Mordred turned back around and walked toward the window. He stood underneath it and reached up, testing to see if he could pull himself up and out, but it was too high. His fingers could just barely reach the slight edge of the sill. Letting his arm drop back to his side, he turned back to the door. He didn't want to, but he knew if he wanted out he would have to use his magic.

"Ætýne."He muttered, hand stretched toward the door.

He waited for the familiar feeling of his magic, but none came. He tried again, this time focusing completely on the spell.

"Ætýne!"

There was nothing. He let his hand drop to his side and began reaching out, feeling for the magic that he knew was inside him. He searched, but he could find nothing. His magic was gone or, at least, blocked. Slight panic began to fill Mordred and he threw his hand up once more, praying to the gods that he would be able to reach his magic.

"Ic ábíetee þæt stánhol!"

For a moment, he felt a stirring, like his magic was trying to break free, but just as quickly it was forced back and nothing happened. Mordred let his hand drop to his side and sank to the floor. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

The light, which had been dim to begin with, soon faded completely until the room was left in darkness. After that, Mordred had no way of telling how much time had passed. He knew it couldn't have been long, but it was long enough. He sat, leaned up against the wall, with his eyes closed. Thoughts raced across his mind as he replied his conversation with Morgana.

Had so much really changed since he was a child that Morgana could be a completely different person? The Morgana he had known would never have held Arthur, half-brother or not, captive with plans to kill them. The Morgana he had known would never have held him captive simply for speaking up for his childhood friend.

He didn't have longer to dwell on those thoughts as the door opened and light flooded the room. Mordred brought his hand up to cover his eyes and got to his feet, ready to fight back should the need arise. He heard the door shut and he opened his eyes as the light faded to a more manageable brightness. Morgana stood beside the door, hanging a lantern from a previously unseen hook. Once the lantern was secure, she turned back to him and smiled, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I am sorry about this, Mordred." Morgana began calmly, sweetly.

"If you're sorry then let me go." Mordred countered.

"I wish I could, Mordred, I really do." Morgana's smile faded. "But no one can leave. Not until Arthur is dead."

"If you want him dead so much then why is he still alive?" Mordred asked.

"He must suffer!" Morgana practically shouted the words. Mordred flinched and watched as she took a deep breath, forcefully calming herself. "He must suffer for all the wrong he has done. He doesn't deserve a quick death."

"Then why keep me here?" Mordred switched topics quickly. "I don't have anything to do with him."

"I want you to help me, Mordred." Morgana took a step forward.

"I already told you," Mordred replied warily. "I'm not going to help you hurt Arthur. He was good to me…"

"As a child, I know." Morgana cut him off. "But wasn't I good to you as well?"

"Of course," Mordred replied instantly, "But…"

"Why should Arthur receive special treatment?" Morgana pressed quickly, walking until she just inches away. "Why should you defend him and not come with me? With your kin?"

"I'm not defending him!" Mordred denied. "I don't want to be against you, Morgana. I just can't repay Arthur's kindness with harm anymore then I can repay your kindness with harm."

"You won't stand with me against Arthur?" Morgana asked slowly, backing up once more.

"I can't." he confirmed. "It wouldn't be right."

"Then I have no further use for you." Morgana's voice was stone cold, no hint of the kindness he had known as a child.

"Morgana," Mordred began, but she cut him off when, with a simple wave of her hand, his voice was suddenly choked off.

"I do hate to lose an ally, Mordred," Morgana said, true sorrow edging into her voice before disappearing. "Especially an old one such as you and with magic. We could be great together, Mordred. We could bring magic back to the land! Don't you want that?"

"More than anything." Mordred replied instantly.

"Then join me!" She urged. "You don't even have to go near Arthur! I will take care of him. You just have to be there to help control the kingdom!"

Mordred kept silent. He didn't know what to do. On one hand, he knew he couldn't let Arthur die. The man had been kind to him as a child, going against his own father to save the life of a druid. On the other hand, so had Morgana. He had always felt connected to the woman, but every fiber of his being was telling him to use his magic—if he could, that is—and do the right thing and get rid of her.

"Perhaps there is hope for you yet, Mordred." Morgana broke the silence. She walked over to him, studying him as a snake would a bird. He bit his lip nervously as she continued, "All it takes is a little…persuasion."

Mordred didn't reply. He watched her carefully, waiting for an opening. Morgana moved back to stand in front of the door, watching him as he watched her. Then her eyes glowed gold and Mordred felt chains appear from midair and wrap around his arms, forcing them up above his head until he was stretched and chained to the ceiling.

"I really don't want to do this, Mordred," Morgana announced as the door opened and a man walked inside, a whip wrapped across his chest and several knives along his belt. "But you have left me no choice."

"There is always a choice." Mordred replied, hoping he hid the nervousness behind false courage. "Just like I choose not to help you kill Arthur."

"Then so be it." There was a trace of sadness in Morgana's eyes and she ran a gentle hand across his cheek before hardening once more and drawing back. "You know what to do, Beldier."

And then she turned her back on Mordred and was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spell Translations**  
>  _Ic ábíetee þæt stánhol_ —I strike/break into pieces, destruction, hole in rocks. "I break a hole in the rocks!" (Used in 'Beauty and the Beast Part One')  
>  _Ætýne_ —Open


	7. A Little Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Their is character torture in this chapter. It's nothing to graphic, but just a fair warning.**

### A Little Persuasion

There was a trace of sadness in Morgana's eyes and she ran a gentle hand across his cheek before hardening once more and drawing back. "You know what to do, Beldier."

And then she turned her back on Mordred and was gone.

Beldier was grinning wickedly as the door slammed shut behind Morgana. He took his time walking over to Mordred, fingering the handles of the knives held behind his belt. Mordred struggled briefly against his bonds, but they tightened around his wrists with each move he made and so he stopped, hoping they would loosen enough for him to slip free before they could re-tighten. He watched Beldier warily, not liking the cruel tint in his grin and eyes.

"We're goin' to have some fun, boy." He announced in a thick accent, unwrapping the whip from around his chest.

Mordred remained silent, eyes locked onto the whip. He had seen what the whip could do in the hands of someone who knew how to use it and judging by the practiced grip he held, Beldier was very accustomed to using it. The large man finished the short walk to Mordred and quickly ripped the shirt and jacket from him, not caring that he had ruined the boy's only clothing.

"This is goin' to be fun." The man said, grin widening to reveal a mouth full or missing or rotting teeth.

Mordred didn't have time to think before the whip cracked and the first lash fell across his back. An involuntary cry escaped before he could choke it back and tears sprang to his eyes as the whip broke his skin. The whip cracked again, landing on his back and wrapping around to his chest. Try as he might, Mordred couldn't hold back the tears that began to spill from his eyes, but he did manage to choke back the cry of pain that rose almost without warning.

Two, three, five more times the whip fell. Already his back was a bloody mess and his chest didn't look too good either. By the sixth lash he couldn't hold back anymore and cries of agony began escaping him. He pulled at the shackles, forgetting all about trying to remain still to see if they would loosen. He arched his back with each lash, trying to escape. The chains tightened around his wrist, cutting into them and drawing blood, but he was in too much pain to notice. He soon last track of how many times the whip had fallen across his back. All he was aware of was the pain and the laughter that came from his tormentor with each anguished cry.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the whip fell still, leaving a bleeding Mordred all but collapsed. If it were not for the chains around his wrists holding him up, he would have fallen down for sure. Beldier curled the whip, still wet with blood, and wrapped it around his chest. He circled the boy, slowly, studying his handiwork.

"Not bad for the first time in a long while." He commented proudly. Drawing one of his knives, he held it up under Mordred's chin, forcing his head back. "Now, boy, are you goin' to do what the Lady Morgana wishes?"

Mordred didn't answer at first. He struggled to stand straight, his legs threatening to give out underneath him. Out of sheer stubbornness and pride, he managed to straighten himself as much as he could, the knife still pressed below his chin.

"I will not help her kill Arthur." Mordred replied, voice confident despite the raspy quality it had and the pain that still could be heard. "Just like I wouldn't have helped him kill her."

"He would kill you in a second for who you are." Beldier hissed, the tip of his knife digging slightly deeper beneath Mordred's chin, drawing drops of blood. "He has no mercy for those like us."

"Like us?" Mordred repeated, curious despite the intense agony he was in. "You're a druid?"

"I was." The man admitted and a look of sadness crossed his face before being replaced by a look of intense fury. "Until that coward came charging into our camp and slaughtered my whole village!"

"Arthur did that?" Mordred asked as the pressure on the knife was let up somewhat.

"His knights," Beldier admitted, "But it's the same thing. Because of Camelot, my family is dead. My wife, my child, gone!"

"I'm sorry." Mordred said sincerely. "But that wasn't Arthur. It was knights. One man can't be blamed for the faults of another."

"Yes he can!"

The knife cut into his chin and Mordred could feel the blood trickling from the cut. Beldier drew the knife back and grinned at his victim.

"By the time I'm done with you," he said slowly, calming himself. "You'll understand. You'll agree with me and the Lady Morgana."

"No." Mordred replied.

"We'll see." Beldier grinned wildly. "After all, we're just getting started."


	8. The Plan

### The Plan

_"Gwaine would have tried to escape." Merlin whispered as he and Arthur bent to pick up a large rock. "He could be in any of these abandoned passages."_

_"He wouldn't have left without the men." Arthur disagreed._

_"Maybe he was just looking for a way out then." Merlin gave. "I think we should check all of the passages we can."_

_"I never knew you had it in you, Merlin." Arthur joked. "That's a good idea. Come on."_

_With a glance around to make sure no Saxons were looking, Arthur and Merlin slipped into the dark passage of an abandoned cavern._

The shackles made it difficult to maneuver through the narrow passageways. Luckily only their hands were shackled, making the way easier as they held the shackles, preventing the chains from clanging against each other. They were forced to duck behind boulders as Saxon guards walked by, but none saw the two hiding in the shadows.

"Which way?" Merlin whispered when the two reached a fork in the caverns.

"This way." Arthur said after a moment, leading off to the left passage.

Neither was sure how long they had been walking when, with a muffled shout, a figure jumped from a ledge, bearing an unlit torch. Arthur reacted quickly, reaching out and grabbing the torch, yanking the wielder to the side. He stiffened, ready to attack, but sighed in relief as he recognized the attacker.

" _Trust you not to be doing any work."_ Arthur said, hiding a laugh.

" _It's about time."_ Gwaine replied, breathing hard but smiling.

Merlin's grin at finding his friend faded as he looked beyond the cavern. He moved forward, distracted by the large blue figure. He stared, not sure what to think. His magic was at his fingertips, ready to defend his friends, but he prayed it wouldn't come to that.

" _Friends._ " Gwaine called to the figure. " _Good friends."_

The group watched as the figure moved from behind the boulder it had been hiding behind and moved further back. With a final look back, the creature ducked behind a boulder and disappeared.

" _What was that?"_ Arthur asked, disbelief and shock in his voice.

_"I'm not exactly sure._ " Gwaine admitted. " _But I owe it my life._ "

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked.

"I was following that…thing," Gwaine explained. "When two Saxons caught me."

"Are you all right?" The physician part of him took over and Merlin began scanning Gwaine, checking for injuries.

"I'm fine." Gwaine nodded toward where the creature had disappeared. "It healed me." He grinned, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "I take it things didn't go according to plan?"

"What gave you that idea?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

"I've just got a hunch for these things." Gwaine grinned. "Unless shackles are a new fashion statement Gwen is making you two do."

"Very funny." Arthur said with a mock glare.

Gwaine just rolled his eyes and laughed. He bent down, poking his fingers into his boots while Merlin and Arthur looked on in confusion.

"Gwaine, wha…" Arthur started, but he was cut off as Gwaine stood, holding out a lock pick.

"Always keep a lock pick on you." He chided, reaching out for Merlin's shackles. "Never know when it might come in handy, especially with the mess you two always seem to get into."

"Us?" Merlin laughed, "Who had to rescue who now?"

Gwaine just grinned and focused on the shackles, making good use of the pick. It only took a few minutes for both Arthur and Merlin to be free.

"What now?" Gwaine asked, replacing the lock pick in its hiding place.

"We need to get back to Percival," Arthur thought fast. "And find the others. Then we use whatever is on hand to fight back. We outnumber the guards and if we act fast they won't be able to put up a resistance."

Gwaine grinned.

"What are we waiting for?"

**O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O**

The odds had improved significantly. As he moved the rocks, Percival was thinking. They had pickaxes, and they were all strong enough to use the rocks as weapons. And if he was to begin now he was sure they could overcome several of the guards and get their swords before they even realized what was going on. The only problem was whether or not to wait for Arthur and Merlin to return with Gwaine.

He battled with himself for several moments before coming to a decision. The best time to act was now, before the guards could prepare for an attack. He knew Morgana would warn them as soon as she could. She would know Arthur would attempt a rebellion, even with the shackles. It would be best to begin before they could properly prepare. It wasn't hard to find the others, though they were all scattered out. With a few whispered words, the plan was formed. They were all eager to escape the brutal slavery of the caverns and none, not even the men who weren't from Camelot, argued against Percival taking charge.

He pushed the rocks down the lane, waiting his chance. He had once chance and one chance only. If he failed, they all failed. With that thought in mind, he spotted his opportunity and with a swift blow, the guard crumpled to the ground and the rebellion had begun.


	9. Final Chance

### Final Chance

He could barely keep his eyes open. The pain was more intense than any he had ever felt, but he no longer had the strength to cry out. His wrists were cut and bleeding as he hung limply, his arms crying against the strain holding him erect. He had lost track of how long the torture had been going on, had lost all track of what was being done to him. All he was aware of was the pain and the darkness that lingered in the back of his mind but refused to take him.

And he was begging for it to. Whether it be unconsciousness, sleep, death, anything, he didn't even care anymore. He just wanted—just needed—the pain to lessen, to cease. The cold water poured over him plunged him into wakefulness. He sputtered, shaking as the cold froze him to the core. He struggled, forcing his eyes to open. His vision was blurred, but as it began to clear he saw Morgana standing before him, bucket by her side.

"I trust you're comfortable?" There was no mistaking the malice in her voice.

Mordred didn't have the voice or the energy to reply. It was all he could do to even hold his head up and meet her eyes.

"You poor boy," The sudden change in the witch caught him by surprise. Morgana walked over to him, running her hand above his bleeding and broken skin. "I told Belidere not to kill you, but he seems to believe all men are as tough as he is."

He could feel his strength rapidly fading and he hoped she would get to the point quickly and put him out of his misery.

"Ic ðe ðurhhæle ðinu licsar mid ðam sundorcræft ðære ealdan æ. Drycræft ðurhhæle ðina wunda ond ðe geedstaðolie*."

Mordred was surprised to see her eyes glow gold as the spell fell from her lips. He could feel the effect immediately, the strength pouring into him as his battered body began to mend. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the darkness had moved from the back to the front of his mind and it was growing harder and harder to fight back. Through slowly closing eyes, he saw Morgana smile—the same smile she had smiled when he was just a child—and her hand on his cheek. Then the darkness took over.

**~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

Mordred opened his eyes slowly, blinking to clear his vision. His whole body ached and it hurt to move. The memory of the past few hours—was it hours? He had lost all sense of time—came flooding back and he moved to sit, but he moved to quickly and pain erupted all over his body. Caught by surprise, he cried out and fell back onto the bed he had been placed.

For a moment, the pain overtook him and was all he could focus on. As it began to fade, however, he began to take notice of his surroundings. He was in a small room lying on a giant bed, the softest bed he had ever felt, though that wasn't saying much. Moving slower this time, Mordred sat up, grateful when the expected pain never came, instead remaining at a tolerable level. His chest had been bound, spots of blood seeping through the bindings. He was preparing to attempt to get off the bed when the door opened and Morgana walked in, bandages in her hand.

"Mordred." She smiled, and for a moment he thought he saw the woman he had met all those years ago, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come. "I trust you are well."

"No thanks to you." The words were out before he could stop them.

He winced as he saw her features harden and he knew he had just crossed a line. He shuffled, biting his lip as the pain heightened just a little.

"No," Morgana spat. "I just used one of the strongest spells I know to bring you back from the brink of death. No thanks to me at all."

"I wouldn't have been on the brink of death if it weren't for you in the first place." When had his tongue become so loose? He physically flinched as the bandages dropped from Morgana's hands and the cold returned to her features.

"You should think twice before speaking, Mordred." She said coolly. "You are lucky I am willing to offer you another chance even after all the trouble you have caused me."

She stepped forward, towering over him as he remained seated on the bed.

"This is your final chance, Mordred," She warned, "Help me and we can restore magic to Camelot. If you do not, then I will have no further use for you."

Mordred bit back a retort, mind rolling over the offer in his mind. He bit the inside of his lip, uncomfortable and unprepared. He didn't want to help the cold woman who stood before him, but he also didn't want to face any more torture. He couldn't face any more torture. Morgana, seeing the uncertainly running across his face, smirked, triumphant in her victory.

It was the final deciding factor for him.

"I will never help you, Morgana." He forced himself to stand, biting back a cry of pain as his half-healed wounds stretched. "You have lost yourself in your quest and I will never stand by your side."

The smirk faded and Morgana stepped back, glaring at him. He swallowed nervously, but drew himself up, holding his head high, proud of his decision.

"So be it." She hissed. "Turn your back on your kind if you wish. It will be the last thing you ever do. You want to stand by Arthur so much then allow me to offer you the privilege."

She turned, nodding at the guards who stood just outside the door. They rushed in, grabbing Mordred and tying his hands tightly in front of him. As he was led away, Morgana glared at him, all semblance of the woman he had met all those years ago completely wiped from her features.

"It is time my brother and I had a reunion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spell Translations**  
>  _Ic ðe ðurhhæle ðinu licsar mid ðam sundorcræft ðære ealdan æ. Drycræft ðurhhæle ðina wunda ond ðe geedstaðolie_ -I heal you thoroughly from your wound with that special power that is ancient. Oh! Magic heals thoroughly your wounds and strengthens you! (Taken from the episode "A Servant of Two Masters")


	10. Taking Back Freedom

### Taking Back Freedom

Gwaine led the way through the caverns, with Arthur following close behind with a lit torch. Merlin dragged behind, uneasiness filling him as he looked around the abandoned caverns. After a pause and a moment's thought, it hit him and he hurried to catch up.

_"Something's wrong. The Saxons, where have they all gone?"_

" _First there are too many, now there aren't enough. Are you ever happy?_ " Arthur teased, unwilling to admit that the absence was unnerving him as well.

Gwaine and Arthur continued down the passageway, but Merlin looked back, swearing he heard something. He frowned, heart beating just a little harder. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the absence of the Saxons.

" _What was that?_ " He asked, pushing his way past the two.

 _"What?"_ Arthur asked, having heard nothing.

A sudden gust of wind blew the flames of the torch and Arthur leaned back away from the flames.

" _Feel the wind."_ Merlin said, mind racing with possibilities.

 _"That wasn't the wind._ " Gwaine said certainly; how could it be the wind when they were deep underground?

Merlin felt his heart drop as a white creature roared through the tunnel, racing toward them. He would know that creature anywhere. He froze, but Arthur moved quickly, pushing him back and throwing the torch at the dragon. Turning around, he wrapped Gwaine's arm around his shoulder, despite the wounded knight's protests. With Merlin leading the way, the three raced just yards in front of the creature, struggling not to fall in the dimly lit passages.

He saw the space in the cave just in time and stopped, pushing Arthur and Gwaine in before following, the fire from the dragon singing the bottoms of his feet. The dragon seemed not to have noticed their leapt to safety and kept running. Merlin recovered first, leaning out of the safety of the passage and down to where the dragon had run.

" _Was that what I think it was?"_ Gwaine asked in disbelief.

" _Where did Morgana get a dragon from?"_ Arthur all but shouted, shock filling his voice.

" _I have no idea._ " Merlin replied honestly. He thought quickly and looked back at the other two. " _Get Gwaine back to Percival. I'll lure the dragon the other way._ "

" _Merlin, I've always known you were stupid, but not that stupid._ " Arthur said, placing his hand on Merlin to keep him from acting.

" _No I really am that stupid and if you don't believe me, watch._ " Merlin spoke quickly, getting to his feet and taking off before they could stop him.

" _Merlin!"_ Arthur exclaimed, lunging to try and catch him, but the man was already gone.

Arthur shook his head, glancing behind him at the injured Gwaine. He sighed, knowing what he had to do. Only he would have a servant willing to chase down a dragon!

" _I'm going after him."_

Arthur didn't give Gwaine time to respond and got to his feet, taking off after his idiot servant.

**~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

Percival couldn't help but grin. The plan was going perfectly. Already they had armed ten men, with dozens more joining them as they moved through the caverns. It was surprisingly simple. All they had to do was move stealthily and wait for the Saxons to come to them.

The big knight led the way, the men who had been captured along with him and Gwaine directly behind, and the others behind them, out of the way as much as they could be. Percival walked slowly, head tilted so that he could hear anyone coming toward him. He paused as the sound of footsteps reached his ears and motioned for the men behind him to hide. He himself ducked behind a boulder, just barely able to see who was coming.

"Gwaine!" he exclaimed, revealing himself as his friend stumbled down the passage.

"Fancy meeting you here." Gwaine grinned.

"Where's Arthur and Merlin?" Percival asked, clasping his friend on the shoulder, not missing the wince of pain that crossed the knight's face.

"Chasing a dragon." Gwaine replied, shrugging the pain off.

"A dragon?" One of the knights exclaimed.

Gwaine just shrugged. Percival turned to one of the men and nodded for the sword. The man replied by tossing the sword to him and Percival held it out to Gwaine who took it gratefully.

"What's going on here?" A Saxon had appeared from the same direction Gwaine had come.

The two knights looked at each and grinned. This was more like it.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Morgana left the guards at the entrance to the caverns. She took the rope binding Mordred's hands herself and tugged it, pulling Mordred off balance. She grinned as he stumbled, falling into one of the guards who laughed and pushed him away. The boy fell to the ground, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Get up." Morgana ordered, kicking him in the ribs. He cried out, trying to wrap his bound hands around his ribs. "You wanted to see my dear brother, didn't you?"

Mordred didn't reply and slowly got to his feet. The bandages around his chest had turned red as the wounds beneath them split open once again. The pain mind-numbing, but he forced it back. It wasn't as bad as it had been earlier, before Morgana had healed him, but it was still bad. The witch tugged on the rope again and Mordred was forced to follow her down into the caves.

They hadn't gone far before they came across the bodies of two Saxon guards.

"What?" she seethed, her anger flaring. Her eyes grew cold and she glanced back at Mordred. "Arthur."

"Did you expect him to sit quietly?" Mordred asked breathlessly.

Morgana glared at him and tugged on the rope roughly, pulling him along behind her as she increased her speed. She was determined to find her brother and end it once and for all. By the end of the night, he would be dead and she could take her rightful place as queen of Camelot.

Mordred followed behind her, the dagger stolen from the guard he had fallen safely tucked away. He didn't know how far they had gone, but everywhere was evidence of the chaos that had been unleashed. Dead Saxons littered the passages, but not a single slave could be found. He could practically feel the anger coming from Morgana when a sudden call caught there attention.

" _Merlin?"_

Morgana grinned and turned, following the sound of her brother's voice. With no choice, Mordred followed.


	11. Confrontation

### Confrontation

_"Merlin?" Arthur called._

How far could the man have gotten? He had started after him immediately, but he had yet to find him. He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. The sounds of fighting could be dimly heard and the king knew that Percival must have taken action.

" _Merlin?"_

" _How good of you to save me the trouble of finding you."_ Arthur froze as Morgana's voice sounded from behind him. He turned, reaching for the sword that had been taken from him when he was first captured.

" _Oh dear, how remiss of you_." She grinned, fingering the hilt of the dagger

Arthur held his head high, meeting his half-sister's gaze evenly. He noticed Mordred standing weakly behind her and he frowned.

"Is this how you treat your friends, Morgana?" he asked, nodding toward Mordred.

"I wouldn't know," Morgana replied hotly. "Show me a friend."

Arthur remained silent and Mordred could only watch the confrontation as Morgana's eyes glowed gold and with a solitary word—Fleoge*—her dagger flew out of its hilt and buried itself into Arthur's shoulder. Arthur cried out, falling to the ground with his hand covering the wound. Mordred tried to move forward, but he was blocked by Morgana who had seemed to have forgotten he was there, though her hand still held the rope.

" _This time it seems there really is no way out._ " Morgana said triumphantly, moving forward and pulling Mordred with her.

Her dagger hung in the air, blade pointing at Arthur's back as he struggled to his knees, shoulder bleeding.

" _I'm sorry for what our father did to you._ " He said, voice heavy with pain.

" _Uther was never my father_." Morgana spat the name.

 _"But we are brother and sister._ " Arthur struggled over to a rock, rising to his feet,with his back turned toward Morgana.

" _Funny how you choose to remember that with my dagger at your back."_

Arthur shook his head and turned, the dagger hovering directly in front of his face.

 _"What happened to you, Morgana?"_ He asked. " _As a child you were so kind, so compassionate."_

" _I grew up_." Morgana replied. Her eyes turned gold, her hand waved, and the dagger stabbed into his unprotected side.

Arthur grunted and his knees gave out under him. He collapsed, lying on his back, looking up at his sister as she stood above him, the dagger still hovering between them and the bound Mordred watching from behind, helpless.

 _"You are right to cower before my hand._ " She said. " _I am more powerful than you can imagine."_

" _And yet with all that, you choose to do nothing but hate._ " Arthur replied quickly, knowing he was powerless before her.

Morgana's smile was sadistic as she replied, "Uther taught me well. Good bye, Arthur Pendragon."

She was prepared to send the dagger into his chest, when Merlin suddenly walked into the cavern, not realizing until it was too late that Arthur wasn't alone. Morgana reacted quickly, tossing the servant into the wall like kindling. He fell to the ground, his head knocking against a rock. He looked up as Arthur's weak " _Morgana…_ " reached his ears. He could see Morgana standing over his king, could barely make out Mordred, bloody bandages wrapped around his chest and hands bound, standing behind her.

 _"Please._ " Arthur was cut off as Morgana's eyes turned gold and his head snapped to the side, hitting the rock wall.

 _"Don't speak dear brother_." Morgana scoffed, enjoying the torment. " _It's too late."_

Merlin raised his hand, trying to summon his magic. His vision blurred and he could feel the darkness closing in, but he blinked it away, his hand falling as the effects of hitting his head began to hit him. Through blurry eyes he could see Mordred moving behind her, but he was powerless to do anything.

Mordred watched as Morgana used her magic against them, rendering both the king and the warlock useless. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as he fumbled with bound hands for the stolen dagger. His hands were still bound, but he heard her begin the spell and he knew he was running out of time.

_"Hine…"_

Morgana gasped as the blade sunk into her back. Mordred's face was emotionless as the dagger sunk to the hilt. He felt her stumbling and she grabbed onto his wrist as she fell to her knees. He pulled the blade from her back and she looked up at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Mordred." She gasped.

He just straightened, shaking her hand off his arm. She gasped once more and her eyes closed as she fell to the ground. Merlin watched as Mordred stared at her limp body for a moment before dropping the dagger and moving over to Arthur. Then the darkness closed in and Merlin fell into oblivion.

Mordred moved to Arthur's side, mind racing. He felt sick. He had never killed anyone before and now he had killed one of the few who had shown him kindness. But that person was gone, he forced himself to remember as he struggled to lift the dazed and wounded Arthur over his shoulder with bound hands. Cursing under his breath at the dizziness in his own head, he glanced at the out-of-it-king and looked away, his eyes glowing gold as the ropes binding him were cut in two. Hands now free, he lifted the king and began to make his way down the passage. He glanced back once, seeing Merlin's crumpled body. He started to go back, but a wave of dizziness overtook him and he knew he would never be able to handle both the men. He could only hope that they would be able to find the other knights soon.

**~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

It hadn't taken long after Gwaine arrived for the rest of the Saxons to be dealt with. News of the rebellion had reached the top, it seemed, and the Saxons cared more for their own skin then that of their comrades or of Morgana. They had taken off or, at the very least, not sent any more down. Still, the group moved warily, checking each passage carefully with Percival and Gwaine leading the way.

The sound of shuffling feet reached their eyes, and the two knights turned, taking a defensive stand. Gwaine started to move forward to attack as a figure appeared, but Percival held him back, waiting to see who it was. It quickly became clear that the figure wasn't one, but two: a severally wounded boy he had never seen before and the king.

 _"Arthur._ " Percival said, moving forward and taking the King's dead weight from the boy.

The big knight paid no attention to the boy, his attention completely focused on Arthur. Gwaine, on the other hand, studied the boy for a moment. His chest was heavily bandaged, the blood seeping through, and he knew it was a miracle the lad was still standing at all. As if on cue, the boy wavered and collapsed. Gwaine reacted quickly, reaching out and catching the boy before he could hit the ground.

"Who are you?" he asked warily, helping the boy to the ground.

"Mordred." The boy gasped. He blinked, forcing himself to remain focused. "Merlin…Morgana," he couldn't continue and waved weakly at the passage he had just come up before his eyes closed and he passed out.

"Help him." Gwaine ordered one of the men behind him, heart racing at the boy's words.

Gwaine stood up, tightening his grip on his sword, and took off down the passage. He didn't have far to go before he came across the body of Morgana. He looked at her, but left her where she was as he saw the crumpled figure of his friend lying to the side.

"Merlin." He breathed, crossing the area quickly and kneeling by his friend's side.

Merlin didn't respond and Gwaine could see the blood matted in his hair from where his head had hit the rock. Gwaine was about to shake his friend, to cry out for him to wake up, when a blue light filled the cave. The knight looked up to find the familiar blue creature standing just a few feet away.

"I will heal him." She…it…said hoarsely. "Go."

"I'm not leaving him." Gwaine protested, placing a protective hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"He will be all right." She crooned. "Please, go."

Gwaine looked at the creature uncertainly, but she had offered him no harm the days he had been at her mercy. Looking down at his friend, he knew he would have to do as she said if he wanted him healed. Looking back up, Gwaine nodded and stepped away. The creature motioned with her hand and the knight sighed before leaving the passageway entirely.

"Five minutes." He called out. "And I'll be back."

Though he couldn't see it, the creature smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spell Translations**  
>  _Fleoge_ -Knife, fly forth!


	12. A Change of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story both here and on fanfiction.net! You're views and comments are very much appreciated and I am glad that so many people have enjoyed this story. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

### A Change of Fate

Merlin stood in the back of the throne room as the knighting ceremony came to a close. It had been two weeks since they had returned from Ismere. Their wounds had all begun to heal and Arthur would put the ceremony off no longer. He had asked Mordred what reward the boy would like in return for saving his life, and Mordred had replied that the honor to serve as one of his knights was all the reward required. Arthur had approved and the ceremony was planned. Mordred was now a knight of Camelot.

From his place in the back of the room, Merlin watched with conflicted emotions. The Euchdag's words echoed in his head, and he wondered if he could have been wrong, if the vision could have been wrong. Arthur was his own bane, not Mordred. But how was that possible? Mordred had a part to play, of that he was certain, but could he have been wrong? Could Kilgharrah and the prophet have been mistaken?

He left the room as quickly as possible, hoping to clear his head. The cheers rang out as he leaned against the wall. He was at a complete and utter loss. In his mind, he could hear Kilgharrah calling for him to kill him, but the boy had saved both of their lives. Gwaine had told him how Mordred had carried Arthur to safety and then sent the knight back for him. The warlock sighed. He just didn't know what to do.

With the clapping still sounding from the room, Mordred walked in. He didn't look around, just headed straight toward the window where he looked out as he began to unclasp the cloak. He felt as if in a dream and he was sure that in a moment he would wake up and find himself back in Morgana's torture room.

Merlin watched him for a moment before making up his mind.

" _Here, let me help you with that._ "

" _Thank you."_ Mordred said in surprise as Merlin walked over and removed the cloak.

" _You know,_ " Merlin said, watching the boy carefully. " _If Arthur knew you had magic, things would be…very different."_

Mordred didn't reply as the older man took the cloak and gently laid it aside. He wasn't sure how to act around Merlin. He knew the man didn't trust him, but he didn't know why or what he could do about it.

" _Tell me something."_

Mordred shuffled nervously. " _Of course."_

" _You saved Arthur's life. Why?"_

Mordred raised his head slightly and met Merlin's eyes confidently.

" _Because Arthur is right. The love that binds us is more important than the power we wield._ " He grinned sadly for a moment. _"Morgana had forgotten that."_

Merlin studied the boy for a moment, holding the new knight's sword in his hands. He saw no deceit, no lies, in Mordred's face and he knew without a doubt that the boy was telling the truth. He could see the change in the boy before him from the child he had last seen. He smiled and Mordred smiled back, though uncertainty was in his eyes.

"I'm glad you feel that way." Merlin announced, turning around and placing the sword onto the cloak and picking them up. "And I'm sorry for the way I treated you earlier."

"You are?" He hadn't expected that, and the surprise shown on his face before he removed the expression.

Merlin smiled again and nodded.

"I was wrong to treat you that way." As he said the words, Merlin knew he truly believed them. "Morgana treated you worse than Arthur and I and yet you still remained loyal to him. You saved his life when I couldn't." He paused, uncertain how to proceed. He still didn't fully trust the boy, but he knew he had been wrong in his original mistrust. "Thank you."

"Of course." Mordred's eyes were wide. Of all the things he had expected, that hadn't been one of them. "Arthur is the hope of this kingdom. One day we will be free, and I hope to see that day come."

"So do I, Mordred." Merlin smiled again as he walked away. "So do I."

Perhaps fate could be changed after all.

**Author's Note:**

> *Season 1, episode 8: The Beginning of the End


End file.
